Friendly Fire
by ilexx
Summary: Oneshot. Set after S4's The Spider's Stratagem.
1. Chapter 1

Set after The Spider's Stratagem.

They all belong to Tribune. They can have them back, when I'm finished playing...

**Friendly Fire**

He sighed deeply.

Well, he had tried. Whatever was the matter with her, it wasn't his fault she had withdrawn from them, not his fault she didn't seem to find her place onboard the _Andromeda _anymore, not his fault she no longer fitted in. He had tried speaking to her, but she walked out on him. She refused to talk, gave no explanations and he... didn't press the issue, because... oh well, because.

On the long way from hangardeck 14, where he had said his good-byes to Rox, and back to his office, Dylan Hunt found his thoughts unpleasantly wandering off from the amusing pilot he had just spent a couple of most enjoyable hours with to some other, as of lately far less amusing pilot.

Maybe it was Rhade, maybe she had had a fight with Harper, maybe she had taken Trance's growing attachment to him as an insult, maybe...

Hell, what did he know? He wasn't a damned shrink. They all had their problems and they dealt with it. High time Captain Rebekkah Valentine started to do the same. Who the hell did she think she was, accusing him of not being grateful, saying that he made her feel no longer trusted. Of course she was trusted. He trusted her with his life, there was no one in the whole universe he trusted more. Especially after the way she had dealt with Tyr only weeks ago. Tyr... Was it Tyr? Damn'!

He shook his head.

So what if it was Tyr? Tyr was dead, gone, to hell presumably and for all he cared, the lying, treacherous, deceiving, arrogant, selfish Nietzschean bastard. If it was Tyr, he couldn't help her. Where Tyr was concerned, he couldn't even help himself.

„Yo, Boss!"

He sighed again, briefly closing his eyes, but did not slowing down his pace, pretending to not have heard.

„Hey, Dylan, wait!"

It was no use. He stopped and turned around, a fake docile smile adorning his lips in greeting.

„What's up, Mr. Harper?"

The engineer came as close as possible, but seemed a bit reluctant, now that he had his captain's undivided attention, to speak up his mind.

„Mr. Harper," Dylan's head came down very near to the young man's, „something you want to share with me?"

„Dylan, have you... Did you...? I mean... Beka... Dylan..." He didn't know what to say. The older man crossed his arms on his chest and looked at him with sympathy.

„Yes, I know, Mr. Harper. She's a bit difficult lately."

„No, that's not what I mean. She's in... Well, she's on Obs Deck. And she's been crying, Boss."

Dylan rolled his eyes.

„And I am supposed to do what exactly about it?" He wheezed a bit annoyed. „Look, Harper," he went on, „I tried. I really tried. I wanted to talk to her, ask her what happened with Rhade. She acted as if I had been issueing a sub-poena, blew off some steam about me not trusting her and took off in a rush."

„Well, did you follow her?" the engineer demanded to know, his tone so determined that it didn't even the occur the other man to refuse an answer.

„I was... hmm," Dylan forcefully cleared his throat, „I had some business to attend..."

„And now, that your 'business' has left, are you going to go look for her?" Harper interrupted.

„And have my head bitten off again? If you think I have an irrepressible death-wish, well - you couldn't be more wrong."

„Dylan, she's changed a lot ever since Tyr left. And now that he's dead..." the Earther stopped his explanations upon seeing his captain's grinding jaws.

„I know. She's changed. We all have," the Vedran pressed out, „but we manage. There is no reason for her to demand special treatment." There was a sharp intake of breath on Harper's side; surprised, Dylan found himself looking into a pair of eyes throwing daggers at him.

„Really, Captain?" came the quick reply, the engineer's tone cold and angry at the same time. „No reason? None at all?"

A pensive expression creeping into his gaze, the High Guard officer sharply mustered the small man's face.

„Okay, Mr. Harper," he finally gave in, „spit it out! Anything you know and I don't?"

„Just something I thought of. What if Beka really loved Tyr? Or told herself she loved him? Or even worse: told **him **and he demanded proof? And what if she delivered?"

There was a cautious look in Dylan's eyes by now.

„Let's go to my office," he then ordered curtly.

„But, Boss..."

„Harper, wait! Let's go." Without waiting for the other man to comply, Dylan sat himself in motion.

„_Andromeda_, engage privacy mode," he demanded as soon as they had entered his office. And no longer waiting to hear a confirmation: „Harper, are you seriously implying what I think you're implying?"

„What if I was?"

Dylan brushed his fingers through his hair in an exasperated gesture. He shook his head, sitting down heavily on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes blindly fixing some imaginary point on the small table in front of him.

„Why?" he asked, finally lifting his gaze. „Why should she do this?"

Harper shrugged helplessly.

„I don't know. Maybe she really loved him. Or wanted to be loved?"

„By Tyr Anasazi out of Victoria by Barbarossa, of all people?" Dylan couldn't help from sputtering out the question, painfully aware of his ironic tone, yet unable to suppress it.

„By Tyr Anasazi, out of Victoria by Barbarossa," Harper nodded. „By Bobby Jenkins, valiant knight of all the Universe's futile causes and bad attitudes. By a fossile captain of a lost world. In short: by whomever, Dylan." The young man sounded bitter, accusing and a little sad.

Said fossile captain sat there, mouth agape, but then seemed to shake himself out of his stupor.

„Oh no, no, no, no,no!" he exclaimed, waving his hands in front of him in denial. „You're not going to lay this one too at my feet. You're **not**!" Jumping up to his feet, he started pacing the room with long, space consuming strides. „I told her not to go to him. I told her she won't find what she was looking for."

Harper's eyes narrowed briefly.

„You really told her straight?"

„Sort of..." the Vedran shrugged dismissively.

„Sort of? Dylan, 'sort of' doesn't work with Beka. You either tell her straight or she just won't listen and come up with her own conclusions. You must have noticed this by now."

„I am sick and tired of all the things I am supposed to notice about you people, Harper!" Dylan suddenly burst out, the grimace twisting his face almost immediately afterwards showing that regret followed impulse on the spot. „I... I'm sorry..." He rubbed a hand across his face. „I really had a talk with her, Harper. I did everything I could to not make her want to stay with him, short of ordering her to not sleep with him, of course, since..." His voice trailed off and ended in a sigh. „Since it, frankly, never occured to me that she might do something as stupid as that, regardless of how bad we needed to know about Tyr's plans," he then concluded.

Harper frowned, looking as disappointed as before.

„She did it for you, Dylan," he said, the reproach in his voice evident.

His hands placed against his back, the other man stretched uncomfortably.

„And how did you figure that out?" There was a sarcastic, yet also uneasy undertone in his question.

„I was there, remember?" the engineer asked in return. „I've seen her trying to get through to him, I've seen him not trusting her. She was running out of options if she wanted to see your plans come true."

Dylan stood still, regarding his engineer thoughtfully, a hand firmly placed over his mouth, the other trapped in his armpit, the very image of a man struggling hard to keep whatever biting remark was crossing his mind to himself.

„Why? Would he really have tried to keep her from returning?"

Harper shrugged.

„At the very least he wouldn't have given her the information needed. When you asked her to deliver Tyr to you... Didn't you know, didn't you expect that there would be a price to pay?" he inquired.

The captain's eyes closed wearily.

„Harper, do you seriously believe that - had I known - I would have asked of her to pay that price? Do you seriously believe that she thought I might ask for such a price?" His voice was raising with each word.

„I seriously believe that she'd go to any lengths to please you," the young man answered gravely.

„Please me?" An unpleasant laugh accompanied Dylan's words. „By turning herself into a hooker and me into a pimp?"

Harper's face reddened with anger.

„No," he answered, hissing furiously through his teeth. „By delivering whatever you ask for. The Commonwealth, the _Andromeda_, you - even Trance and me... We are like her children, Dylan, there's nothing she won't do, nothing she won't sacrifice for us. And Trance, me, even Rommie, we know that at least!"

The captain rolled his eyes, his gaze averted from Harper's face.

„Fine," he finally sighed in defeat. „Fine, I'll talk to her!"

-

He was standing in the middle of the Observation Deck. She couldn't see his face, but the wide-spread legs, the hands clasped on his back, the stiffness in his spine and squareness of his shoulders didn't bode well. She cleared her throat. When he didn't react, she knew that there was trouble ahead.

„_Andromeda _said you wanted to see me," Beka told him, coming to a halt by his side. Dylan continued to stare out to the stars in silence.

„Dylan?" There was no response other than some faint sounds, obviously connected with his grinding jaws. She laughed up, no humour in her voice. „If this is supposed to intimidate me..."

„Intimidate? You?" He slightly turned his head towards her, his eyes cold and sparkling with rage - which was a strange combination, when she thought about it. „Who am **I **to intimidate **you**?"

She sighed. Loudly.

„Look, Dylan, if this is still about what happened with Rhade..."

„Leave Rhade out of it!" he ordered in a thundering voice. Beka's eyes narrowed a little, contemplating him oddly.

„O-kay," she scanded. „Is it about our previous conversation? About what I told you?"

His hands on his hips, he slightly bowed down to her, invading her space.

„You, lady," he sharply hissed, „haven't told me anything!"

Their eyes locked and stayed locked, until finally Beka averted her gaze from his piercing, blazing gaze.

„What are you talking about?" she asked, walking away from him and finally turning around to face him, her back leaning against the rail in front of the window.

„Tyr!" Dylan spat out. „What did you do with Tyr?"

„I lured him into trusting me," she answered casually.

„How?"

„What does it matter how? What do **you **care anyway?"

It took him just a second to close in on her, towering over her. The light shining from outside the ship behind her penciled a golden line along her frame, making her appear like a sunny, a bit fragile negative of herself, as Dylan couldn't help noticing. The sight of her made him reconsider and withdraw a few steps.

„Beka," he issued in a strained voice, „is it true? Did you sleep..." He shook his head, swallowing down his anger. „Did you have to sleep with him in order to get his plans out of him?"

Crossing her arms on her chest, almost hugging herself, she looked at him defiantly, no longer avoiding his eyes. She didn't answer, but after a short while she threw her head back a little, her eyes not losing contact with his for a single instant.

„No big deal," she finally told him in an even voice. „It was quite pleasant. Nothing really, compared to the way Pish grilled me on your behalf.

Dylan's eyes widened. He almost staggered back a few steps, until his legs met with the broad bench and he sat down on it. He was still gazing at her, unbelieving, silently inquiring, asking for an explanation.

She complied, sighing.

„All this time I spent searching in vain... Running back and forth from one maddening story to another, between fake and missed dates with fate. Finally realizing that fate doesn't give a damn about me obviously not knowing how to play the game." Still not letting him out of her sight, she seemed to search for words. „I wanted to see just once how far I could take it, if I could play this through, to the very end..."

Dragging her feet, Beka approached the bench and sat down, too.

„All those travels, those adventures, all those routes we've taken... To just end up in yet another wrong place at the wrong time. I'm sure you can relate!" There was a cutting edge in her tone all of a sudden. „And yet I couldn't leave. I tried, but I couldn't... Maybe I'm too protective, maybe I'm too afraid," she said vaguely, gazing at his profile.

He turned his head towards her, taking in her face, one of his hands brushing away a strand of her hair that wasn't out of place to begin with, then dropping down again.

„Maybe you just looked too far away instead of letting yourself... be..." he hesitated, but then finished, „be loved?!"

„Loved? By whom?"

„By us." He sounded serious. And flinched almost at the contemptous smile she showed him in return.

„By you? You've grown long accustomed to be Harper's big bad brother, that he can call whenever the kids around the block don't want to play with him. You're Rhade's captain and he is your loyal officer. You're Trance's friend and she is now your good luck-charm. And you're Rommie's heart and she is your home. I don't really have a place with any of you anymore."

He opened his mouth to answer her, but no words came out. He didn't dare to ask the question on his mind: _And you? What am I to you? _Her eyes were dry, her face seemed almost frozen. She asked in his place.

„Am I anything for you?"

Again he tried to speak, again to no avail. She nodded slowly, understanding.

„I am tired, Dylan... Every time I try to come closer to you, you keep walking faster. Every time I try to make you listen to me, you start talking louder."

„I... I didn't notice you tried..." he stated helplessly. „I only noticed you were avoiding me."

Beka shook her head.

„I was. I am. I'd rather avoid you than see you avoiding me, you know. Are you not?"

_Not you. Never you. I'm merely trying to avoid whatever other heavy blow there is ahead of us_, he wanted to tell her, but he didn't.

„Beka," he tried instead, „I always found strength in you..."

„Yes," she admitted to him, „you found in me the strength you lacked. Funny that you always used it to get yourself to places where I couldn't follow, where I wasn't waiting, while you were yourself refusing to wait for me to catch up. You took too much, Dylan... To just push harder, to live another day, to win just one more battle. You took too much... From Rev, from Tyr, from me..."

„Tyr didn't leave because..."

„Tyr left because he felt that he was not receiving enough from you. Rev left because he believed to be of more use elsewhere. It didn't bother you. You never asked why, never wept a tear. And I..."

Dylan jumped to his feet and started pacing around, no longer listening to her. He couldn't let this go on. In a matter of moments she would start telling him why she now would leave them, leave him. _This can't be happening_, he thought. Leaning heavily on the rail in front of the window, he turned his back to her.

„I know," he heard her say, „your life since the Fall must seem to you sometimes like an enormous library filled with nothing but gothic novels. There is however one pretty picture-book among those horrors: us, the crew you have - me, Dylan! You just have to notice. I... had hoped I could bring Tyr back to you. I was wrong. I'm sorry."

She looked at him. She waited, asking herself again what she was waiting for. There really wasn't much left she could expect from him.

Leaning on his arms spread wide, his head bowed between his shoulders, he didn't turn around, didn't say anything first. And when he finally did after a long, long time, the deep voice sounded hollow, faint, almost a whisper.

„I walked faster, I talked louder, I tried to avoid you avoiding me, because I tried to drown all the regrets I have. I **did **weep, just not close by. I tried to hide my eyes from seeing what you saw, and I am sorry if I used your hands instead of mine to hide behind. I took, but I was also... I **am **giving back, Beka, at least I'm trying to, it's just that you don't seem to understand anymore what it is that I have to offer. And I too am tired of dreading you leaving me. Each time you played this game, I tried to learn from it, but it's a stupid game, and I really don't want to play it anymore. It's not worth it, Beka, nothing is worth that much. I might have won most battles, but if I really did all I could to drive you away..." He lifted his head, gazing out to the stars. „I'd hate to know that I have torn the last page from the only pretty picture-book I have. Maybe you're right and Harper is something like my kid brother, Trance my good luck-charm and Rommie my home. But you're my lifeline, Beka," Dylan concluded softly, slowly turning around, his eyes searching for hers.

In the silence behind him the vast room was almost dark - and empty.


	2. Chapter 2

Everything Andromeda is owned by Tribune et al.

Set right after The Others.

**Of Bricks and Walls**

He stands in front of his console, holding on to it, painfully aware that the ride is a lot rougher than usual. He can feel her eyes time and again burying themselves into his back instead of remaining focused on the pilot's station and the monitors. At a particularly nasty jolt, that threatens to almost throw him off his feet, he almost snaps at her, but bites off his remark. Not while they are in slipstream. Finally he breathes out relieved, when they exit at last.

„_Andromeda_, where are we?"

„The Carella-Nebula," is the prompt answer. He turns around, his eyebrows raised inquiringly.

„That close to Commonwealth space?"

Beka Valentine just shruggs indifferently.

„We're far enough to be safe from their scouts – and bounty-hunters." She gives him a hard look. „You said: ‚Anywhere but here.'"

„I was just wondering," he replies with a sigh. He searches her face. Something is not right – and it's getting worse. Their talk hasn't helped much. She didn't even listen him out... When he'd been infected it was as if she didn't even care about whether he died or not. And now she is just furious, her anger even more scary as it is a cold, controlled, reigned-in rage.

They are alone on the bridge, it is late and he's been even before this slipstream trip from hell on his last pair of legs after what he's been through. She looks fine, just somehow not herself in her destructive icyness.

„Anything bothering you?" he asks, trying to sound casually. Last thing he needs right now is another one of the pointless, hurting, accusatory discussions that seem to become routine between the two of them.

„Would there be anything worth bothering me?" she asks in a brittling tone.

„I... don't know...?" he ventures hesitatingly.

„I mean," she then continues, biting irony dripping from her words, „you just took care in such a glorious way of everything, blasting out that wall, haven't you now, Dylan? And you even had Harper and Rhade both applauding your actions with utmost conviction!"

He blinks at the sarcasm.

„You didn't say something about not approving."

„You didn't ask. You didn't even have the courtesy to inform me about your plans. You just started shooting."

He is surprised. That's not what he had expected. She might have a point there. As his XO he should have informed her of his plans to blast the wall away, that had been separating the Northerners and Southerners of Trillon for ages. But he had been too eager to just get done and be out of there, a bit under shock about his close brush with death and truly didn't see any flaws in his plan. Still doesn't.

„You don't approve?"

„Dylan, have you even stopped to think it all through?" She hisses her question through gritted teeth at him.

„Well, yes..." He feels his own conviction wavering. „Rhade and Harper seemed to think it a good idea, too."

„Rhade, Harper, you!" she exclaims disdainfully. „Tell me, why do you think, with so little gender-specific behaviour left around, that men still have this amazing tendency to go for the easy way?"

To point out that this isn't likely to change as long as, gender-specific behaviour on the retreat or not, women won't suppress their amazing tendency to out of the blue explode in anger, doesn't seem like a smart move at the moment. Not that she is exploding. If anything, she is freezing up. He feels anger of his own starting to grow slowly. And then she baffles him: within a fraction of a second, he sees her eyes clouding over, getting blurry, her face softening up. A distant, unpleasant memory mentally tugs his sleeve, trying to surface, but he can't put his finger down to it and after just an instant pushes it away. With an uneasy puzzlement he sees her shrug in a helpless, defeated manner.

„Beka!" It takes him but a few strides to reach her. He pulls her into his arms. „Beka!" he repeats even softer, holding her tightly and gently rubbing his hand up and down her back. At first she stiffens up, but then he feels her arms close around his waist, while she buries her head into his chest as if she'd like to block the world away from sight, as if she'd want to stay there, never to leave again. He keeps silent, waits. He is in vain searching for the right words to say. He has no idea what might be wrong. They just stand there in silence, for a long while.

„Why do people always have to tear down walls?" When she finally speaks, it almost startles him. He has to concentrate in order to be able to distinguish the words she says into his sweater. The question confuses him, too.

„Because walls that high have never managed to make anyone feel protected, secured..." he answers tentatively. „Because you can't do anything else but hide behind them..."

„What's wrong with hiding?"

„It isn't a long term strategy," he tells her, sounding very much like the captain of the _Andromeda Ascendant_ speaking to delegates of the Commonwealth, while Dylan Hunt keeps stroking her shoulders. „And whatever hides behind them: innocence, freedom, humanity can't survive there."

He feels her face turning away from his body and to the side. Her left cheek comes to rest against him. At least he now can hear her better. But she holds on to him, preventing him from looking at her while she speaks.

„What if the walls manage however to hide things that should better remain locked away? What if they simply hide armours, masks, hatred, infamies, graves?"

He doesn't have to see her face. Her voice is thick with tears. His arms close even tighter around her.

„Then tearing them down offers a chance to deal with it all. Destroying the walls doesn't mean that you can't remember, that you shouldn't look back. You can turn the page without tearing it out."

„So is it just me who is frightened? Am I the crazy one here?" she asks in a child-like voice.

„No, we all are afraid: that the change will be even more dreadful than the horrors we've grown accustomed to, that we won't be able to meet the challenges, that history abandons those of us who need more time to adjust. But it makes you stronger." He tries to make it sound as convincing as possible.

„Why not do it gently? Bring it down brick by brick instead of blowing it all up?"

„It takes too much time, gives the ones hiding behind it a chance to reconsider, to bury away the... how did you call it? Infamies, the graves..."

„Those you can't take away. Certainly not by taking down the wall."

She places her hands against his chest, pushing him slightly away, finally allowing him to look at her, while she searches for his eyes. Her face looks delicate, almost transparent.

„You are a dreamer. You will never be able to tear down the walls in their heads. They are much taller, stronger than even that monstrous line they'd drawn in the sand. No-one can tear those down... Ever! And even if you should succeed, you'll never wipe out the wounds they have inflicted!"

Her voice sounds matter-of-factly, resigned, there is hopelessness in her smoky eyes.

„Beka," he tries again to engulf her in his embrace, warm her up, comfort her, but she withdraws herself from his arms, until she is just out of reach, looking at him steadfastly. He sighs. „Beka, is this still about the Trillon-system?" he finally asks, almost cringing upon seeing her straightening herself up and backing further away.

Her lips part, but she remains silent, only her eyes crying out at him to help her. He feels how fear and despair threaten to engulf him, as he stands there numbed by the realisation that he can't help her, that something is even more wrong than he thought, worse maybe than he can face up to right now. Or at all.

„Beka," he pleads, „we can tear down the wall, no matter how tall..." His voice sounds almost begging, but lacks conviction. And she hears it. She swiftly approaches him and cupps his cheek with her hand. For a brief moment he feels strangely comforted by the fact that he recognises the same despair in her as he is feeling. It doesn't last.

She steps back and turns around, slowly walking away towards the doors.

„Beka..."

She stops in the corridor just outside the entrance, throwing him a last sad look.

„And then? he hears her asking, „What if the only thing behind the wall are always only more walls, Dylan Hunt?"


End file.
